


221d

by EmmyAngua



Category: Basil of Baker Street - All Media Types, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:39:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmyAngua/pseuds/EmmyAngua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mrs. Judson is poisoned, so Basil and Dr. Dawson must go on an expedition to the upstairs flat in order to find an antidote. Modern update of The Great Mouse Detective and crossover with Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	221d

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Small Hobbit who gave me the prompt ‘Mrs. Hudson finds a mouse and insists someone gets rid of it.’ This probably isn’t the fic she was imagining, but I’m sorry I saw ‘mouse’ and I only had one option. 
> 
> I have tried not to scar anyone's childhood memories, including my own.

221d Baker Street is not as different from its upstairs counterpart as one might imagine.

Tiny net curtains cover a small window, so excellently hidden that even the sharpest of eyes (and some very sharp eyes watch 221b Baker Street) have never spotted it. If one were to look closely at the curtains they might notice the painstaking work of Mrs. Judson, who has spent many long hours cutting and altering paper napkins from Speedy’s so that they are as fine as lace. The walls are covered in the same iconic wallpaper – no decorator notices a missing offcut – and the furniture is the common mouse mix of human oddities and dolls-house miniatures.

Mrs. Judson remembers her grandmother’s stories: how grand the homes of mice became in the Victorian era, when dolls-houses were more popular. Still, she can’t complain: her entire bedroom is gorgeously pink and she has the finest pink furniture, all emblazoned with the word ‘Barbie’.

In the living room one wall is taken up by the enormous flat screen thingummy whose origins Basil has never fully explained. It’s technically a mobile phone, but hung up on the wall it becomes their television, computer and fireplace. Mrs. Judson has only learned to check the weather on it so far, which she does every day, even when she can already see out of the window.

It’s the end of a busy day. Mrs. Judson has just been to visit the very kind (and rather flirtatious) mouse who makes a home in Speedy’s and has brought the boys back some dinner. She looks around and, as no one is paying attention, pops a small piece of bread into her mouth.

Basil is at his experiments (he’s never explained the origins of his scientific instruments either) and Dr. Dawson is reading the paper in his chair. Basil’s empty chair is huge and throne-like, once having been a novelty armchair mobile phone holder.

She is just telling them about that nice mouse at Speedy’s and setting the table (she’s not their housekeeper but they have fewer rooms down here) when she suddenly feels dizzy.

She’s unconscious before she even realises she’s falling.   

\--

Basil swishes his thin tail in irritation. Dawson finds it very irritating considering he is trying to examine Mrs. Judson.

“Nearly done,” he says. “Help me get her to bed.”

Between the two of them they carry her through to her terrifyingly purple and pink bedroom and lie her down.

“Poisoned,” is the verdict.

For anyone in the human world, this might be shocking and Basil’s human counterpart would certainly be very interested, but they are mice. Poison is a fact of life.

Dawson bows his head. There’s very little that they can do.

“The usual poisons?” asks Basil. He looked suddenly rumpled, devastated, and he sinks into a hard purple plastic chair that had once been part of a Barbie Hairdressing Salon.

“Well… I’m not quite sure what it is. It’s not anything I’ve seen before.”

Basil’s head jerks up. “There’s a chance she can be saved?”

“Well,” Dawson doesn’t want to give false hopes, “we don’t know anything about this poison. Unless we can find out…”

Basil jumps up. “Quickly Dawson! If we find the source she might yet stand a chance!”  

He dashes from the room, leaving Dawson to trail after him reluctantly.

 

\--

 

The usual way of accessing the hallway of the house is through a tiny gap in the now boarded up fireplace. This part of the house is a route they’ve used many times. So long as one waits quietly and is absolutely sure that there is no one coming, there is very little danger and Basil is so excellent at being unseen that Dawson often finds himself far too casual about the sneaking around. Basil has gone even further than he: upstairs to the active rooms occupied by the male humans.

Still, moving around in daylight is a much bigger risk.

They have been waiting in the boarded up fireplace for what seems an age, and he is just about to ask why when Basil shushes him and grips his shoulder. There are footsteps from outside and then the rumble of human voices.

“Oh John! Oh you poor thing. You’re soaked!”

“Yes, missed my bus and the tube is hell today… and some of can’t afford to get taxis just because it’s easier.”

The female human titters.

“I’m off out,” she says. “My cousin is visiting.”

Next to Dawson Basil groans at the pointless conversation. He is perhaps a little too loud. The woman outside shrieks.

“Sorry! Sorry – I thought I heard a mouse. I saw one yesterday and I’ve been ever so jumpy ever since…”

Basil and Dawson freeze.

“I didn’t hear anything,” the man reassures her. “Was it just one?”

“I took no chances! I asked Sherlock for help and he said to dip some bread in whatever he has in the yellow petri dish upstairs and leave it out, so hopefully they’re all in mousey heaven right now. He thought the poison was used to kill that bus driver but apparently he tried it and it didn’t do much more than knock him out for a while.”

This seems to interest John Watson, who asks many more questions about the poison in a strange tone of voice.   

The conversation rumbles on and eventually the woman leaves and the man heads upstairs. Now they are able to talk freely Basil lets forth a shout of fury as they climb through the gap in to hallway.

“That WOMAN! Mrs. Judson is dying while she talks cheerfully about _mousey heaven_!” He takes a deep breath and stops shaking his fist after the retreating woman. “Still, at least we know where the poison came from. If I can get a sample I can very likely cook up an antidote.”

“But Basil, how? You heard her; Sherlock is the human who lives upstairs. We’d have to get up there without being seen; it might be possible at night, but the day? With both of them up there?”

“We have to _try_ Dawson! I’ve been up there before and it’s not impossible.” He reached out and took Dawson by the shoulders. “But be warned! The man who lives up there is the very epitome of a fiend! He’s sharp eyed and he’s dangerous! We have encountered each other before. If it weren’t for the grave danger Mrs. Judson faces I wouldn’t dream of going up there until I knew he was far away.”

“What do we have to do?” Dawson asks breathlessly.

“First we must take off our clothing.”

Dawson is not expecting that. “I beg your pardon?”

Basil is already unwinding the scarf from around his neck and tucking it out of sight. “Honestly Dawson, these humans won’t ever have seen mice with clothes before. We mustn’t attract attention.”

Dawson knows that there are… mice that aren’t like them. They can’t talk and they don’t know or understand anything of society. Those were the ones the humans saw and captured. But the idea of imitating one of them… of being naked!

“Basil I can’t!”

He yelps as Basil peels off his own shirt without a hint of embarrassment.

“It’s nothing to be afraid of Dawson. I’ve had to do it before, it’s no different this time. I won’t look. You won’t look. We just won’t look.”

Which is a fine thing to say, Dawson thinks as they climb up onto the bannister and begin the long trek upwards, but not looking is a terrible plan of action when one is heading into enemy territory. They both need to be on their guard and, dammit, Basil had knew that as well as he.

There’s a moment of relief on the landing when a pot plant offers them rest and a brief chance to hide themselves in the leaves. They are right outside the door and the voices of the humans inside are clear. Basil stretches, his position allowing him to see inside the room.

For a long while the human from downstairs seems to be engaged in shouting. The other human, the fiend as Basil called him, seems unconcerned and eventually the argument fades away. Dawson is just about to ask about the plan when the man from downstairs speaks again in a softer, warmer tone.

“Mrs. Hudson has gone out for the entire evening.”

“Mm?”

“ _All evening.”_

_“Oh.”_

From his position Dawson can see movement through the glass door of the kitchen. The two humans are moving through the kitchen together. In a moment they are out of sight, if not earshot.

“What excellent luck!” whispers Basil. In a shot he drops onto the ground, darts through the living room, into the kitchen, and hops easily up onto the chair and the table top. Dawson follows and hovers awkwardly in the door, keeping a lookout.

He can just see Basil’s tail as he scampers about the table. Occasionally there’s a ‘hmm’ or a rustle of papers.

“Aha!” he cries, ignoring Dawson’s frantic shushing attempts. “Yellow petri dish… yes.. yes… I see your game.”

A sudden cry from the bedroom causes them to both freeze, completely alert to danger. They still, ears pricked for danger, waiting for the footsteps and the shout of alarm.

None comes.

“I say, found anything?” Dawson calls in a frantic whisper.

“Hmm…? Oh yes, yes… some frightfully interesting work here from the fiend.”

“Basil, this is really not the time!” Dawson hisses. “Mrs. Judson is frightfully ill!”

This seems to snap Basil back to it. He jumps down reluctantly, a scrap of paper in his hand and his tail wrapped around a test tube filled with thick paste. They run for the stairs and the tube clunks on every step as it bounces after Basil.

“I have the antidote!” Basil whoops. “And it some ways I’ve overestimated these humans. His work is really quite a way behind mine.”

 

The End


End file.
